


peace, perhaps

by Anonymous



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Asexual Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Gender-Neutral Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Other, Yearning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-17
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-12 04:14:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29503938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: They had found two ways to ease the hollow ache in their chest. The first: to accept kindness, consideration,gentleness, from others.The second: to give that same kindness, consideration, and gentleness to another that needed it. That that person happened to be Emet-Selch could be considered coincidence, or perhaps fate. Regardless--in the end, it was welcome.
Relationships: Emet-Selch/Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 22
Collections: Anonymous





	peace, perhaps

**Author's Note:**

> LET'S BE HONEST, EMET-SELCH IS JUST VERY LONELY AND FILLED WITH GRIEF
> 
> written in a haze because i couldn't sleep and i am filled with feelings of yearning at all hours. please do not @ me about my abuse of the word gentle or any mistakes i missed in my single brief edit xD

They'd woken up in the middle of the night, once, to a presence at their back. Quiet, comfortable. They'd rolled over, pretending to just reposition in their sleep, and the presence had sharpened, like a beast coming awake, but remained still. Had this presence been someone afraid of getting caught? What a laugh.

Who would sneak into the bed of the warrior of light, the warrior of _darkness,_ only to stop a foot away to sleep, and then be afraid of being caught?

The warrior was patient, though, had waited for that presence to soften again and then opened their eyes briefly to the shock of Emet-Selch laying there, face slack but for a slight wrinkle in his brow.

They'd almost laughed. Who had ever heard of eons-old immortal spirit beings even needing a _nap,_ let alone sleep. But there was Emet-Selch. Well and truly asleep. What a strange thing to see, they'd thought, as they let their eyes close for the night.

It had happened again and again. And then, eventually, they had opened their eyes to meet Emet-Selch's. He'd raised a brow. Expecting, perhaps, to be judged, yelled at, ridiculed, thrown out on his ass for daring to not ask first. Perhaps they should have thrown him out. But his presence didn't really bother them, so they'd quirked a brow back, smiled lightly, and shuffled a bit closer before settling in to sleep.

The distance between them closed, slowly. Breathing each other's air, laying back to back, letting a hand touch the other's body where it lay, resting a hand on the other's side, leaning into each other's presence.

It didn't matter, then, that they were enemies, or suspicious allies.

One night, Emet-Selch was in their now oft-shared bed first, looking deceptively small as he curled into himself.

The warrior had sat, then, near him, and gently carded their hand through his hair. Emet-Selch's body had stilled, before slowly, inch by inch, relaxing again.

The warrior decided to take more liberties then. They could trust Emet-Selch to tell them to stop if they approached a boundary, after all this time, could they not?

One night, Emet-Selch had been sitting on the edge of their bed, staring listlessly into the distance, and the warrior had taken his hands in theirs, found no tremor nor sign of emotion there, none in the eyes they'd peeked up at, but the air between them had gentled, like that first night of caressing his hair.

"Can I kiss them?" They'd asked, moving their thumb over his fingers.

"You're bold, warrior," he had answered.

"Is that a yes?"

"I suppose."

It was gentle in a way the warrior hadn't experienced with anyone else. Perhaps Haurchefant, if they'd had more time together. But it was nice. It felt like a kindness they'd both been craving for some time now, though neither would admit to it.

"Can I kiss you?" they asked.

"Whyever would you want to do that, dear warrior? Not satisfied with your many suitors?" Emet-Selch had replied. Eyes guarded. Tone sharp.

They hadn't flinched, though. Instead, they'd taken his hand, gentle as always. What could they say? Words were not enough to describe their yearning for closeness, for gentleness, for whatever it was between them that was shared and broken and begging.

"Can I?" They asked again.

He sighed, brought his head close to theirs, then stopped, face looking pained. The warrior brought their other hand up to his face, smoothing a thumb over his cheek.

"It's OK if you don't want to," they said.

"...Another time, perhaps, dear warrior."

They nodded, retreated to their agreed upon bounds. They kissed his hands, gave their gentleness there instead, and left it for the moment.

They asked again, another time.

"Can I kiss you?"

He took a breath that might have been fortifying, perhaps determined, had it been anyone else.

"I can oblige," he'd said, tilting his head, forcing a grin. Acting like a put-upon flirt.

They noticed. Whether it was obviousness or luck, they noticed that subtle fear, subtle hesitation, and approached slowly, gently, always gently. They brought their faces together, then pressed their lips to his cheek, instead of his lips.

It was surprise they found on his face, when they pulled away. Surprised at the consideration, though they didn’t understand why he thought they would skip ahead here. After all the patience, the shared nights, the slow pace up to this point, they thought it was obvious that they wouldn't push.

They smiled, patted his cheek, then flumped down onto the bed, motioning to the space next to them to settle down for the evening.

One of their most comfortable positions was a pillow or blanket between the knees, so laying next to Emet-Selch, they snuck a leg between his, threw an arm over his side, and snuggled in close to his chest. It was nice, and then Emet-Selch let out a sound akin to a growl. Grabbed the wrist of their hand that was over his side and pushed them onto their back, settled his weight over their thighs so they couldn't move. They pulled their hand down, wove their fingers together with his as he spoke.

"Do you know what you do, putting your leg there?"

"Come," they smiled, ignoring whatever burning heat might've been building between them in favour of lifting their free hand to his face. In favour of what they knew better. "Let me kiss you."

He sighed. "You're a menace."

"This menace would like to kiss you."

He let their hand bring his head down to their level. Let them press gentleness and kindness to his lips, his eyes, cheeks. Let them laugh, a short and light exhale, and kiss his nose, then return to his lips.

His brow furrowed. "Are you happy? Like this?" he asked. _Broken,_ he didn't say. _Feeling incomplete, feeling alone every moment we are apart. Feeling alone even when we are together._

"I'm happy enough. This is enough."

"This?"

"Here, now. You."

He sighed, then.

"You're stronger than most, warrior," he said, voice low. _Stronger than me,_ perhaps, went unsaid.

"Thank you, you're quite strong yourself."

His face pinched, like that was a lie that hurt to hear.

"You're strong, Emet-Selch. Don't let anyone ever tell you otherwise."

He shook his head, then, and laid it on their shoulder so he didn't have to see their face, their eyes, their kindness.

They snaked their hand through his hair, like that first time. Kissed the side of his head, held his hand a little tighter.

**Author's Note:**

> there are many things i would give up to kiss emet-selch... u_u


End file.
